


Garak's Day Out

by DaharMaster



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11351523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaharMaster/pseuds/DaharMaster
Summary: With Garak's shop closed due to nearby maintenance, he takes the opportunity to enjoy the station's promenade.





	Garak's Day Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pikestaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikestaff/gifts).



Oh, O’Brien, that  _ meddler _ . Though prone to fanciful notions and not quite as quick witted or sharp tongued as the good Doctor Bashir, Garak found the chief’s company quite agreeable. In fact, he even felt sorry for the man. He always seemed so overworked and Garak had done enough skulking around in conduits to know the kind of hodgepodge job that the station of Deep Space Nine was. Cardassian, Federation, Bajoran, even Klingon and some other bits and pieces all madly tied into each other.

Just to keep life support operational must be a nightmare.

Yet that morning, Garak was a bit cross with the chief. Apparently the chief had to perform “routine scheduled maintenance” on several power conduits in and around Garak’s shop.

“If this was scheduled, why wasn’t I informed until now? Why you come barging in here and tell me to leave my own shop so you can… fiddle about?” Garak had asked. O’Brien had looked cheerlessly helpless and only shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry Garak,” he’d said, “I just assumed someone had told you…”

_ I suppose I better make the most of it _ , thought Garak, now slowly strolling through the upper level of the promenade. He liked it there. Most of the activity was on the lower level and he could simply stand there and watch, reading those below in ways and to a degree few others could. Sometimes he felt almost predatory, a bird of prey perched high above its quarry.

A broad smile creasing his face, he leaned against the railing and looked down. So much petty drama! It was delightful. It reminded him somewhat of the… oh what had they been called. Shampoo musicals? No! Soap operas that Julian had lent him once.

“Ahem,” barked a loud voice, obviously trying to sound much deeper than it naturally was from just behind Garak at about hip height, “Loitering is strictly prohibited on the promenade.” Garak turned slowly, eyes wide and predatory, grin like a snake ready to strike. Nog stood there frowning, arms crossed over his chest.

“Loitering?” Garak asked in faux-confusion, “Me? Why I’m just taking in the view.”

“What view?” Nog grumbled.

“Why, that of the Celestial Temple,” replied Garak, gesturing out a large window to the wormhole, “I’m a recent convert, you know. Why, are you attempting to stop a true believer from experiencing one of the wonders of his faith? I may have to speak with Kai Winn about this…”

“You’re lying,” spat Nog.

“Even if I am, if you arrest me you’d be setting a precedent and would have to arrest every Bajoran who stops to look at it,” Garak replied in a sweet and peaceful tone that just made Nog scowl even more. The two stared at each other for a long minute before the Ferengi finally stomped off without saying a word.

Garak turned back to the people down below and allowed himself a small chuckle.  _ My is that boy easily manipulated _ , he thought. 


End file.
